Flying, Not Falling
by Rhiannon Welsh
Summary: It's the Christmas season. Sam and Dean Winchester travel to Illinois to hunt down a werewolf. Dean takes up a job at a local coffee chain for the next few weeks while they try and lay low. However, there's one guy who comes into the shop every day without fail. Intrigued as to whether he could be another monster or simply human, Dean vows to learn more about him.
1. Wish Upon A Star

_1st December._

"What can I get you?" A woman wearing a green apron asked brightly, smiling at the customer from behind the counter. It's seven o'clock in the morning - far too early for anyone to be up, she thought, but it's her job to serve coffee to those who wander into the shop. It was early on a Saturday morning, and Castiel Novak was standing at the front of a small queue in a coffee shop, which is called Starbucks. He transferred his gaze from the menu board to the employee. "I'll have a Pike Place Roast." He finally told the Starbucks employee.  
"Can I take a name?" The coffee shop worker, badge labelled 'Allison', replied instantly.  
"Castiel," He replied swiftly and without hesitation.  
Allison laughed slightly, "You're kidding, right? God, what were your parents thinking?"  
"No...I am Castiel." He repeated. Castiel then frowned after a moment's thought and said gruffly, "Oh. I don't know. I have never considered that."  
Allison stared at him before stating, "That'll be one dollar and fifty cents."  
Castiel removed a handful of coins from one of the pockets of his tan overcoat, which billowed just below his knees and handed them to her across the counter.  
Allison counted up the coins and placed them in the cash register before handing back the appropriate change. "Your order will be there by the end. Thank you and please come again!" She said chirpily.  
Castiel waited for his order and carefully carried the cup to a cozy looking chair in the corner of the shop. He waited a few minutes for the liquid to cool before taking a tentative sip. It was revolting. Castiel had his angelic status removed and became human, and was now completely cut off from heaven. Being an angel for several millennia, he was not much yet used to human life, but he knew that he must consume copious amounts of comestibles, as well as imbibing various quantities of liquids in order to survive. Hence why he happened to be sitting at a circular wooden table in an extremely crowded place, which he found quite disconcerting. Being stationed on earth is far more interesting than being in heaven, although he does miss the company there at times. On earth, the world is so busy: full to the brim with people rushing to meet their friends at the little coffee shop in town, hurrying to catch that next flight to the furthest city, or scurrying along in the rain to get back home. Humans never stop. Castiel admires them. It made him realise, people know nothing about each other; the strangers they pass by on the streets. They shall never know how another's day has gone or what their goals and aspirations are, nor whether they like tea or coffee or neither. Castiel felt as though the human race could achieve so much more if they slowed down a little in the day in order to contemplate their actions. How are humans supposed to relax when their brains never give them the chance to? Maybe that's why they have the tendency to over think things at night; because their surroundings are quieter and give them time to reflect. The coffee, now filled almost to the brim, stood abandoned on the table as Castiel got to his feet and left the coffee shop.

"Okay, remind me again why we're in Pontiac, Illinois investigating some case about some stupid werewolf? We could have easily avoided this one, but no. You insisted on dragging both of our asses half way across the country because "it looks like our kind of thing". It was a seven hour drive, man. What the hell?" Dean Winchester asked his brother, Sam, angrily as he threw his pistol onto one of the beds in the motel room.  
"Dude, chill. We haven't had a case for a while, I thought we both needed something to work on. Besides, you use any excuse to drive the Impala."  
"You couldn't have chosen something closer to home, Sammy?" Dean argued, "The weather is terrible; it hasn't stopped raining since we got here. Don't even get me started on how freezing it is either. Plus this motel gives me the creeps: the carpet and wallpaper are too old and there are weird paintings everywhere. It's freaking weird, like something out of an old horror movie, though it's probably a hell of a lot more normal than most of the things you and I have faced."  
Sam sighed in exasperation, "Look. We're probably gonna be here for a while, so I'm gonna stay here with my laptop and do some more research about the so-called animal attacks, whilst you go out and try and get a normal job. Got it?"  
"That doesn't seem fair, Sammy, and you know it." Dean replied in annoyance, knowing when he was fighting a losing battle. Maybe it could be educational, actually working whilst undercover. After all, a guy needs something to do other than drown his sorrows in alcohol, right? "Fine." Dean said reluctantly, glaring at his younger brother before shoving his battered leather jacket on and leaving the room. Sam smiled and started typing away at his computer. He heard the sound of the Impala's engine roaring into life two minutes later as Dean drove away.  
_  
_"Sammy!" Dean called out a few hours later, walking into the room. "I got a job! Someone actually wanted to hire me, kiddo. I'll start working as a barista at a chain coffee shop tomorrow morning at seven. It's called Starbucks. Awesome, huh? I'd rather be working as a mechanic, but you suggested something inconspicuous, so we 'blend in'. Like that's ever worked before."  
Sam laughed at his older brother's enthusiasm. "Yeah, working at a coffee shop. Hitting on chicks, serving beverages. It's your dream job, Dean," Sam smirked.  
"Shut your cakehole. You've gotta give me credit for actually finding something."  
"Yeah, I'm so proud. Serving people, making drinks: the family business." Sam laughed.  
_  
_"It's two hours later and there's still nothing to do in this place except watch crap TV and drink beer." Dean groaned, staring at the television screen before switching it off, "What the hell is Glee even meant to be?"  
Sam shrugged "Beats me."  
"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm gonna find a burger place before I slam my head into the nearest wall. You want anything?" Dean asked, hovering by the door.  
"Nah, I'm fine. I ate when we stopped for gas. Thanks." Sam answered quickly. Dean was gone before he could get the last word out of his mouth.

Dean had brought back a burger for his brother but Sam had fallen asleep next to his still-running laptop, which was whirring as it overheated on the distastefully patterned bed sheets. Dean shrugged and picked the laptop up from the bed where Sam was sprawled out, and carried it to the table where he watched re-runs of Dr Sexy online until the early hours of the morning.


	2. Pumpkin Pie

_2nd December.  
_

It's 05:49 when the eldest brother's phone alarm goes off and he briefly contemplated throwing it across the room before switching the damned thing off. Dean Winchester is decidedly not a morning person. What kind of idiot willingly sacrifices a chance to sleep in on a Sunday morning in favour of standing behind a coffee counter? Sam hadn't woken up yet. Dean had never seen him sleep so soundly, except when he was a kid and Dean could still ruffle his hair without having to reach up. Dean thought about throwing a bucket of cold water over his brother but figured he'd be pissed. Dean decided against it. Dean woke up ridiculously early for someone who doesn't _do_ mornings. Then again, he didn't want to be late on the very first day and give a crap impression. Fifteen minutes and he's showered and refreshed. The only thing left to do is to shove some clothes on and then he is ready to go. Dean thought that he might even get the chance to relax a bit if he's lucky, maybe have something to eat other than a cold and tasteless left-over burger from the night before. Standing there in his boxer shorts, he looked through his clothes and swore under his breath, "Shit. What am I meant to wear? I can't remember what that manager guy said yesterday. Probably something smart. So that means that jeans and plaid shirts are out of the question. I'll wear a white shirt and black trousers or something. That should work. I'll be issued one of those tacky green aprons anyway, so that should be fine. Hopefully." He glanced at Sam, confirming that he was still asleep.

The collar of the shirt Dean changed into was too stiff and it itched like hell. Dean was apprehensive about the whole working scenario. He hid a knife in his shoe just in case. Sam woke up when Dean stumbled over the laptop charger and held on to the table to regain his balance.  
"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam inquired sleepily before rubbing his eyes.  
"I tripped over your stupid cable. Go back to sleep. You don't have to work your ass off all day." Dean instructed, pulling his black jacket and fixing the collar. "Right. Whatever you say, Dean." Sam yawned, turning over onto his front and falling asleep again.

Dean sincerely regretted staying up late the previous night. "Ugh. Why did I watch so much of that TV show last night?" He groaned as he cruised down the highway in his '67 Chevy Impala, struggling to keep his eyes open. He switched on the radio and Highway to Hell started playing as another song finished. Dean sang along loudly and waited 'til the music faded away before muttering "Yeah, well no damned hell hounds are gonna take me back there." Dean stood outside the coffee shop twenty minutes later. "Right, Winchester," he thought, "Don't screw this up."

It was two minutes past seven in the morning. The coffee shop was warm, although the weather outside is abysmal. Castiel was glad that it is not cold there because, despite his overcoat, he is not unfamiliar with the chills of the brisk wind on a winter's day. He decided to try a drink named the Breakfast Blend that morning, given that the name seemed appropriate for the time of was a different member of staff who served him on that Sunday morning. The male employee appeared to be inexperienced, thought Castiel, although he is hiding this well. Castiel deduced that it was the man's first day of work. The badge attached to his apron stated that his name is Dean. Castiel thought that is a nice name: it is simple. He believed that one of its definitions is 'leader'. This Dean has green eyes and freckles, and he seemed to be a man of strong stature. He was kind and, unlike most of the staff at the coffee shop, he did not mock Castiel when he said his name as he placed the order of one Breakfast Blend and a slice of pumpkin pie. Dean wrote down 'Cas' on the slip of paper for the order. Castiel looked at the piece of paper with a considerable amount of interest; would 'Cas' be considered a nickname? It is a shortened version of my name, but I do not think that anyone has called me that before, he thought, his blue eyes narrowed in concentration. As Castiel collected the drink after paying, he sat down on a wooden seat, eating the pie and picking up a tattered book to read. He liked Dean. His cheerful manner did not feel forced. Castiel hoped that Dean would be at Starbucks often, as he would very much like to see him again. Castiel picked up the drink and took a gulp of the strong substance. He sighed and put the coffee mug down on the table before him. It was too tangy for his taste.

It's six minutes past one and Dean is sitting in the back of the shop in the store room, speaking to his brother on the phone. "Well, this place isn't half as bad as I thought it would be. Not counting the disgusting green aprons. Starbucks is actually kinda nice and reasonably stress-free, given that there aren't that many customers here but all of them are as dull as a brick. Well, except this one guy."  
"Oh yeah? What's he like?" Sam responded after a moment.

Dean continued, "He's been sitting in the same spot practically since we opened up this morning. He hasn't taken off his overcoat, even though it feels like a sauna in this place. All he does is gaze out of the window, but not like most people who are usually waiting for someone; this guy seems to be looking out of the window just 'cause he wants to admire the view. According to a co-worker, this is the second time he's been in here. I served him earlier today. In fact, he was my first customer. Apparently his name's Castiel. I thought he was joking at first, but his expression was completely solemn. Cool name though. It sort of fits in with his unusual attire and persona, don't you think? I think I'm gonna call him- Sam. Are you even listening?" Dean frowned at the silence on the other end of the line.  
"Oh, yeah, sure. Listening to you drone on about your new boyfr-"  
"Shut up, Sam. He's just interesting, s'all. You got any new information about the supposed animal attacks?"  
"Actually, yes." Sam answered, a hint of smugness in his tone of voice as he tapped a few keys on his laptop. "I've been looking up the folklore and local legends in these parts just in case it's not a werewolf we're dealing with. Remember the daeva and Zoroastrian demons in Chicago? I checked the morgue today; the heart was missing from all three bodies. Each was torn out savagely. That could link to the shadow demons. But the lunar cycle fits: there's a killing every half month so it's more likely that we're dealing with a werewolf here."  
"I'm starting to think that you enjoy researching more than actually killing monsters, Sammy. Nice work though," Dean replied appreciatively. "Speaking of which, working is exhausting. I'd choose ganking demons over this any day. How the hell do normal people cope? I'd go insane. Anyway, the killings every half moon pretty much seals the deal for us, right?"  
"Yeah, I guess so. The locals think that an animal attack is the cause of the last four killings. It's plausible, I suppose. The people here aren't used to creatures like this." Sam answers.  
"Wait, four killings? You said there were only three bodies?" Dean scratched at the side of his neck as he spoke.  
"Well, four bodies went missing but only three were recovered, and they were found in the woods."  
"So what are we dealing with? An alpha? The missing body, that was the one who went missing first, right?"  
"I don't think the guy's an alpha, Dean, just a regular werewolf-"  
"Yeah, who had an eat-your-heart-out buffet," Dean retorted, interrupting Sam. "Now all we've gotta do is track it down and fire it with silver before that son of a bitch strikes again," Dean chuckled, hanging up and slipping the phone back in his pocket.  
Another employee walked into the store room. "Were you just talking about werewolves?"  
"What? Are you kidding me?" Dean laughed, "No way. I was just explaining to my kid brother how difficult it is to kill werewolves in his lame video game."  
"Oh, good. I was beginning to think…you know, with the recent attacks in the area..." She looked at Dean anxiously, "Anyway, I'd best be getting back to work."  
"You've got nothing to worry about," Dean told her reassuringly. He glanced at her name badge, "Nice talking to you, Stacey" he called out as she left the room. Dean stood up and followed her, ready to serve the next customer.

Dean kept an eye on Castiel, who left the shop at two. He also left behind his faded old book. Dean picked it up and went to follow him, only to find that he had disappeared without a trace. Dean looked at the book before placing it behind the counter, vowing to hand it back to the customer the next day, providing that he returned. "The Origin of Species. That's some light reading he's got there," Dean chuckled, talking to a co-worker. Dean wondered whether Castiel came into the shop every day, or just occasionally. Hell, Dean didn't even know why he cared so much about the guy. I'm just concerned, he thought, it's perfectly rational. I mean, he looked kinda lonely sitting there and drinking coffee alone.

Dean's shift ended at three and he put his apron on the peg, glad to get back to the motel and spend time with his brother. Dean drove to the motel and let himself into the room. Sam was sitting comfortably on the fraying sofa, watching cartoons.  
"Hey, budge up," Dean elbowed Sam in the ribs as he sat down. "Show your elders some respect."  
Sam laughed, moving up a little, "I don't think so, jerk."  
"Bitch." Dean grinned as he settled down to watch television with his younger brother.


	3. Home Is Where The Heart Is

_3rd December._

Dean Winchester was standing behind the counter at the empty coffee shop putting change into the till when a woman with dark hair and brown eyes strode confidently up to him. She rapped her knuckles on the wooden surface loudly to get his attention and smiled when she got what she wanted. "Hey, I want a Caffè Americano," she demanded loudly.  
"You woulda got my attention a hell of a lot faster if you'd said something, you know." Dean told her. "What size, for you to take away or stay in? Also, I need your name for the order."  
"Tall. Take away. The name's Meg, handsome."  
Dean scrawled her name across the cup, ignoring her futile attempt at flirting. "That's one dollar and seventy five cents," He replied stiffly. She handed over the exact money needed then went to collect her drink. Castiel wandered through the door at ten past seven and immediately walked towards the till. Meg bumped into him and winked, "Hey there, cutie. What's your number?" She smiled at him, getting her phone out of her handbag, ready to tap in a phone number.  
Castiel stared at her wide-eyed in panic like a hare caught in the headlights: absolutely terrified and utterly disorientated by the entire situation. He looked around the room as if searching for an obvious exit. He blinked rapidly, gulping. His throat locked up and he was unable to speak.  
"What's the matter?" Meg looked at him expectantly before scowling, "Am I not good enough for you? Stop looking at me like that. Who the hell do you think you are anyway?" She glared, suddenly towering over him. She put her phone bag in her bag, zipping it closed.

Dean watched the scene before him with a frown. He glanced around the coffee shop. The rest of the employees were round the back unloading new stock, and it was too early for large amounts of customers. He picked Meg's coffee up from the counter and carried it over to where she and Castiel stood. "Hey, leave the guy alone. Can't you see he doesn't wanna date you? I'd suggest that you leave." Dean said defensively to Meg. Castiel looked at Dean in surprise, seeming more alarmed by the fact that the employee was defending him - a man that he had only known for not even a whole day.  
"But everyone wants to be with me," Meg stated, pouting. "Everyone." She repeated menacingly, her stubborn look suddenly replaced by one of flaming anger. She took a step towards Cas, grabbing him by his dark blue tie.  
"Yeah, well he clearly doesn't! Dammit, can't you take a hint? Maybe you're just not his type. Or, has it occurred to you that your attitude's a real problem?" Dean questioned.  
Meg let go of Castiel's tie and pushed him away, turning to look at Dean, gritting her teeth before responding, "What did you just say to me."  
Dean instinctively stepped in front of the now cowering Castiel, as if to protect him. "You heard me. And don't you dare lay a finger on Cas." Dean shoved the luke-warm coffee towards her. "Take your coffee and get out." He ordered.  
Meg grabbed the cup of coffee from Dean's hands, the liquid slopping over the edge and down her blouse. She shrieked and threw the cup in the nearest trash can and stormed out of the shop.

Castiel looked at Dean in wonder and placed his hand on the other man's shoulder, "Thank you, Dean."  
Dean turned and looked at him. The tan overcoat seemed to hang far too largely upon the man's slight frame, and his slumped shoulders gave the impression of him being a scared child. "It's not a big deal, okay? She was acting like a bitch towards you and I don't want any of our customers to get in any sort of trouble." Dean smiled at Cas, who gave a small smile in return.  
Cas removed his hand from Dean's shoulder and looked around in worry, "I hope that no one witnessed that spectacle."  
Dean chuckled, "S'okay. You're safe, no one else saw. Listen, Cas, do you want a drink? It's on the house. It's the least I can do after that."  
Castiel frowned at Dean in confusion, canting his head to one side, "On the house? How can a drink be-"  
"It means for free, you don't have to pay." Dean cut in, chuckling. "So, what do you wanna drink? I can recommend something for you if you'd like, seeing that your last two orders haven't gone down a storm. What d'ya say?" He smiled.  
"I think I would like that. What would you recommend for me to try?"  
"Personally, I'd say the House Blend, what with the drink being on the house and all. It's lively and it'll probably raise your spirits a bit." Dean smiled.  
Castiel nodded. "The description sounds pleasing enough. I would like to try that drink, please."  
"Great. I'll make it for you now." Dean walked behind the counter and carefully prepared the drink while Castiel lingered in front of the till. Almost two minutes later Dean handed him a cup of freshly brewed coffee with a smile, "There you go, Cas. Enjoy."

Castiel took the red cup from the Winchester carefully and took a small sip. Dean watched him in anticipation, eager to find out what the other thought of the beverage. Castiel lifted his gaze to meet the taller man's, "Thank you. I find it delicious." He lowered his eyes again, keen to drink more of the coffee.  
"No problem, buddy. I'm always happy to help." As he watched Cas take another sip of the drink, Dean's face broke into a smile.  
The man's smiling was infectious and soon Castiel couldn't help but smile too, his face lighting up. He lifted his face and looked at the the employee, who was now struggling not to burst into laughter. "I do not understand what is so amusing." Castiel stated, frowning slightly.  
Dean reached under the counter and pulled out a handful of napkins, taking some time to collect himself. "You've, uh, got some cream above your lips." He commented, handing the paper towels over to Castiel, who took them and wiped his mouth before disposing of them in a bin.  
"Is it gone?" He asked, ducking his head slightly in embarrassment."Yeah, you're all good." Dean smirked. "Oh and before you leave, yesterday you left your book behind." The hunter looked in a drawer underneath the counter top and lifted up The Origin of Species, placing it on the counter top. He then pushed it over the wooden surface towards the bemused customer.  
Castiel picked it up with care and cradled it in one arm, still holding the cup of coffee in his other hand. "I am grateful for you returning it, it is an interesting read. For now I have business that I need to attend to. Goodbye." He suddenly walked out of the shop and disappeared round the corner.

"Huh. Curiouser and curiouser." Dean muttered as he went round to the back of the shop to help with the new delivery.


End file.
